


Identity

by Bittersweet



Series: 30 Days of One Shots [28]
Category: Hockey RPF, White Collar
Genre: F/M, Mistaken Identity, New York Rangers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 16:34:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4228989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittersweet/pseuds/Bittersweet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jones and Berrigan arrest a suspect. Unfortunately he's not who they think he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Identity

“There he is,” Jones said watching their suspect stop in front of a coffee stand.

“I’ve got him,” Berrigan said walking towards the well-dressed man. “Mr. Sloane!” she called. The suspect started to walk away and she stepped in front of him and held up her badge. “Ricky Sloane I’m Agent Barrigan, I’m going to have to ask you to come with me.”

“I’m sorry Agent,” Sloane said smiling. “I think you have the wrong man.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Please turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

“This is ridiculous,” he started to reach into his suit jacket and Berrigan pulled her gun. Sloane froze. “I’m just reaching for my wallet.”

“Put your hands behind your back and turn around now!”

“All right,” Sloane said turning around slowly and putting his hands behind his back. “But if you check my I.D. you’ll see that you’re making a mistake.”

“Yeah yeah,” she said walking him towards the car. This time she couldn’t resist rolling her eyes.

 

“He’s waiting in interrogation,” Berrigan said as Burke and Caffrey walked into the office. “You were right about Sloane, he is very dedicated to his back story.”

They walked into the observation room to check in on Sloane before Burke would go to interrogate him.

“Should have come up with a better name,” Jones said laughing. “Dead giveaway that the I.D. is fake.”

“Um,” Caffrey said staring through the window. “That’s not him.”

“What?” Barrigan said. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Caffrey said. “You’ve arrested the wrong guy.”

“Do you have his I.D.?” Burke asked. Jones passed it to him and Burke flipped the wallet open, then looked skyward. “Henrik Lundqvist. We’ve arrested the New York Rangers starting goalie.”

“What? That guy?” Jones asked looking through the one-way glass. “Isn’t he a little old?”

“And it means that we’re holding a Swedish citizen without cause.”

“To be fair we did think he was someone else,” Barrigan said. “Maybe he’ll see the humour in it?”

“Let’s hope so. I’ll try to straighten this out, you three get back to trying to find the real Ricky Sloane.” Burke walked out of the room.

 

Henrik had been sitting in the interrogation room for over an hour when the door opened and a man walked in.

“Mr. Lundqvist,” the man said walking forward. “I’m Agent Burke I apologize on behave of the FBI, we’ve been following a suspect in an ongoing case and my agents mistook you for him.”

“Really?” Henrik couldn’t help laughing. He stood up. “So I’m allowed to leave then?”

“Yes, of course,” Agent Burke said. “And again I am so sorry about the confusion.”

“To be honest I was expecting this to turn out to be some prank my teammates were playing,” Henrik admitted. “So no harm done. So long as it doesn’t happen again right?” He grinned and held his hand out.

Burke shook it. “Right,” he agreed. “Good luck on your game tomorrow night.”

“Thanks. Same to you with your suspect.”

 

Peter breathed a sigh of relief when Lundqvist was gone. That could have ended a lot worse. He shook his head and went to catch up with his team.

They caught up with the real Ricky Sloane the next afternoon and Peter was glad to close the case and head home to El. After dinner, on a whim, he turned on the television and found the Ranger’s game.

“Hockey?” El asked him curiously as she sat down next to him, passing him a glass of wine and taking a sip from her own.

“I met the Rangers’ goalie yesterday,” Peter explained dropping his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Call it idle curiosity.”

They watched the first period, technically Elizabeth read while he watched, and it ended one nothing for the Rangers.

“What do you say we head upstairs?” Peter asked leaning in and kissing his wife’s neck.

“What about the rest of your game?” she asked smiling.

“I can read the scores in the newspaper tomorrow.”

“Hmm,” Elizabeth said. “That sounds good to me.”

Peter reached out to turn the television off. His fingers stopped as the commercial changed to an interview with Lundqvist.

“So what are your feelings on being detained by the FBI yesterday afternoon?” the reporter was asking.

“It was a misunderstanding,” Lundqvist said grinning. “Apparently I have an evil twin out there. I called my brother back in Sweden to make sure it wasn’t him,” he joked. “But really, it was no big deal. The agents were very polite and immediately released me once they realized that they’d made a mistake.”

“Well your brief incarceration obviously hasn’t effected your game at all. How confident are you about—”

Peter turned off the television and glanced over at El.

“Met huh?” she asked laughing.

“It’s technically true,” Peter said, pulling her to her feet as he stood up. “Now, about going upstairs…”


End file.
